Last weekend, I experienced something that I have never experienced before, and which, I felt, was worthy of sharing. At the moment, I am in Iquitos, which is officially the largest city in the world unreachable by cars or busses. The only ways to get here are by air or water, but when I chose to take the scenic route, I didn´t have any idea what I was in for. We boarded the boat after buying hammocks and water, along with about 75 other people in a large open second floor. The boat was relatively large, and shaped somewhat like a Mississippi paddleboat, minus the paddlewheel. The first level was for cargo, which included several crates of bananas, stalks of sugarcane, a motorcycle and a few tvs. The next two levels were for passengers, the first costing roughly 20 dollars and the other costing 40. We opted to go cheap, to be honest, there didnt really seem to be that much of a difference. We slept the first night in relative peace (as well as one can sleep in a hammock), but the next morning, hordes of people began boarding the boat from various pueblos along the riverbank, until there were well over 200 people in the room. As we jostled for position in the hammocks, now extending in every direction across the room, we figured out that the only way in which anyone would get any sleep would be if we slept head to feet (to give you a picture of how little room there was). I hardly slept, but, I can assure you, the Peruvian next to me slept like a log. And snored. All in all, an interesting journey.
On a completely unrelated note, for those of you who have never been in South or Central America, the term ´gringo´ is thrown around a lot for white foreigners. The interesting tidbit is that, during the war with Mexico, the Texans wore green, and the Mexicans yelled, ¨Green go home¨ which was eventually shortened to Green-go....gringo.
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Five Year Old Kids and Shining Path Guerrillas
For the past few weeks, I have been spending the majority of my time in a day care ´cuña´, where the majority of the kids live there for some amount of time over the week while their parents work on the street. The differences between the teaching methods and the behavioral responses here are so vast from those which I remember (not that I remember much from this period of my life) but worth commenting upon.
I´ve been working in two separate classrooms, both of five year olds who would love nothing more than to climb all over me all day, and scream ¨altame¨ until I obediently lift them up as high as I can. Working in Chimbote with kids ages 6 to 15, I swore that there could not be another age more difficult to control, but clearly, I was wrong. Sure, these kids spend most of their times looking cute and to the casual glance, they appear to be low matinance, however, they are anything but that. When complaining about their irreverent behavior to a fellow volunteer, I remarked how I was sure that I couldnt remember being so annoying in my life, and she replied ¨I bet your pre-school teacher could¨.
On a separate and unrelated note, an offshoot of the Shining Path has been agitating in the southern rainforest area, though their numbers are less and their objective seems to have changed. The New York Times reports that ¨the Shining Path, taking a page from Colombia’s rebels, has reinvented itself as an illicit drug enterprise, rebuilding on the profits of Peru’s thriving cocaine trade¨ (Cocaine Trade Helps Rebels Reignite War In Peru, Simon Romero, NY Times). The original Shining Path Movement was a Maoist offshoot of the Peruvian Communist Party, and is responsible for around 70,000 deaths from their beginning in 1980 to their supposed downfall in 1994, when their leader, Abimael Guzmán, was captured by the government in Lima. Today, the group that remains is reportedly smaller (350 millitants and 500 cocaine-producing workers) and better trained. Luckily, the pitched battles are being fought in the southeast Andean and rainforest regions of Peru, where coca farming is most proliferant, and I have thus felt no backlash.
I´ve been working in two separate classrooms, both of five year olds who would love nothing more than to climb all over me all day, and scream ¨altame¨ until I obediently lift them up as high as I can. Working in Chimbote with kids ages 6 to 15, I swore that there could not be another age more difficult to control, but clearly, I was wrong. Sure, these kids spend most of their times looking cute and to the casual glance, they appear to be low matinance, however, they are anything but that. When complaining about their irreverent behavior to a fellow volunteer, I remarked how I was sure that I couldnt remember being so annoying in my life, and she replied ¨I bet your pre-school teacher could¨.
On a separate and unrelated note, an offshoot of the Shining Path has been agitating in the southern rainforest area, though their numbers are less and their objective seems to have changed. The New York Times reports that ¨the Shining Path, taking a page from Colombia’s rebels, has reinvented itself as an illicit drug enterprise, rebuilding on the profits of Peru’s thriving cocaine trade¨ (Cocaine Trade Helps Rebels Reignite War In Peru, Simon Romero, NY Times). The original Shining Path Movement was a Maoist offshoot of the Peruvian Communist Party, and is responsible for around 70,000 deaths from their beginning in 1980 to their supposed downfall in 1994, when their leader, Abimael Guzmán, was captured by the government in Lima. Today, the group that remains is reportedly smaller (350 millitants and 500 cocaine-producing workers) and better trained. Luckily, the pitched battles are being fought in the southeast Andean and rainforest regions of Peru, where coca farming is most proliferant, and I have thus felt no backlash.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Trujillo
Sorry for the space between these entries to all of my faithful readers. This past weekend I arrived in Trujillo, separated from Chimbote by two hours in bus, but worlds apart in appearance. Where in Chimbote, the more expensive houses are two stories and the center is a few blocks of markets and fish restaurants, Trujillo sports colonial architecture in its center, and apartment buildings tower the skyline up to nine stories high.
At the same time, Trujillo has its benefits. Gone are the days (at least for now) where hot water did not exist, where the water would occasionally shut off and a shower would be a bucket of water. Gone are the stifling hot nights without AC.
The only question remains, is this a good thing? The streets of Chimbote were filled with friendly, cerveza swilling people, willing to make fun of gringos passing in the street and whistle at pretty girls. Here in Trujillo, it hardly seems that anyone has any time to do anything other than get from point A to point B, talking on their mobile phones the whole time. Up until this point, I had found the socioeconomic difference large between cities here and in the states, but not uncomfortable. On the contrary, Trujillo, with its clean streets and busy people, which could be any city in the states, seems unwelcoming.
A short fifteen minutes from the city, however, is the beach pueblo Huanchaco, where western values have yet to penetrate. What used to be a beach has slowly grown into a sleepy little town, where all the people know each other and are willing to talk to you about pretty much anything. It also sports some sizeable swells, as well as some of the best surfers in Peru. Last Thursday, I went to my first surf championship, where the sixteen best surfers in Peru competed for the big air title of Peru. Eight of the surfers were from Huanchaco, and although none of them won, several placed highly and the event was quite interesting overall.
At the same time, Trujillo has its benefits. Gone are the days (at least for now) where hot water did not exist, where the water would occasionally shut off and a shower would be a bucket of water. Gone are the stifling hot nights without AC.
The only question remains, is this a good thing? The streets of Chimbote were filled with friendly, cerveza swilling people, willing to make fun of gringos passing in the street and whistle at pretty girls. Here in Trujillo, it hardly seems that anyone has any time to do anything other than get from point A to point B, talking on their mobile phones the whole time. Up until this point, I had found the socioeconomic difference large between cities here and in the states, but not uncomfortable. On the contrary, Trujillo, with its clean streets and busy people, which could be any city in the states, seems unwelcoming.
A short fifteen minutes from the city, however, is the beach pueblo Huanchaco, where western values have yet to penetrate. What used to be a beach has slowly grown into a sleepy little town, where all the people know each other and are willing to talk to you about pretty much anything. It also sports some sizeable swells, as well as some of the best surfers in Peru. Last Thursday, I went to my first surf championship, where the sixteen best surfers in Peru competed for the big air title of Peru. Eight of the surfers were from Huanchaco, and although none of them won, several placed highly and the event was quite interesting overall.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
A Culture of Cheating
Having grown up playing soccer, and admiring such professionals as Christiano Ronaldo, I have thought nothing of it when he ´dives´, falling intentionally to draw a call from the referees. Until recently. South America, on the whole, is less of a law driven culture than the United States, and life is not divided between things that you can and cannot do, rather, between what you can get away with, and what you cannot.
This became evident to me in Bolivia, where the majority of the taxi drivers dont have licenses, and the police are ready to accept bribes as opposed to arrest perpetrators. One of my spanish teachers, Oscar, has another business in which he brings cars which have been imported from Japan through Chile to be legally sold in Bolivia and further east in Paraguay and Brasil. He doesn´t have a drivers license, but still drives his cars across Bolivia on weekeds. He has told me that getting a drivers license is not about ability, but rather about money. You must pay to take the test, and then pay off the test taker so that he will pass you. Driving skill is never part of the equation. Once on the streets, these taxi and combi drivers will view stoplights, streetsigns, and even pedestrians as optional yeilding points. Very frequently, drivers will even speed up to intimidate the pedestrian traffic to move aside, and late at night, taxi drivers will not even slow down before running red lights at major intersections. Oscar has been pulled over numerous times, but he says that a bribe of 75 to 100 bolivianos will usually suffice, at which point the officer will drive away, waiting until he needs more pocket cash to pull someone else over.
Here in Peru, the problem has manifested itself in a different form (for me), perhaps more serious and worrying. Working in a day camp program, I have had the opportunity to interact with almost 100 kids from the surrounding neighborhoods, organizing crafts and outdoor games for them to play. Some recent favorites have been American Football, Dodgeball, and Kickball, mixed with the perennial favorites of soccer and volleyball. The problem lies not in the energy of the kids, but in the way that they play the games. Playing soccer on the streets has taught them that anything goes, that winning is the goal and the rules are flexible. When they come to play here, they bend the rules and will sometimes blatantly not listen to them. Granted, kids will be kids, and playing by the rules is something that is learned, and not innate, but the culture here cultivates the idea of winning at all costs, while most families in the states look to teach their children the value of playing fair.
As I mentioned in an earlier post, I have managed to play soccer on a 8 versus 8 field about twice a week, and my Peruvian family constantly finds it funny when I get pushed off the ball by larger (beer bellied) players because of my size. The keep telling me I need to kick back, be tougher and stronger. The soccer here is different from the states, again, because of the culture. A foul in the states would be recognized by people on both teams, and the game stopped, the situation resolved. Here, only the dirtiest fouls are called, to prevent fights from breaking out, and the elbows that I recieve are shown little attention, other than catcalls from the bystanders.
To make broad statements would be unfair, as I´m sure that there are Peruvians who know the value of good sportsmanship and Gringos who do not, but it seems that the culture values are different. Cheating in the states will usually lose you friends and respect, while here it is shrugged off as a part of the competition. If you ask my Peruvian brother, he would tell you, ¨jugamos sucio. No es como los estados unidos, pero es como se juega aqui¨
This became evident to me in Bolivia, where the majority of the taxi drivers dont have licenses, and the police are ready to accept bribes as opposed to arrest perpetrators. One of my spanish teachers, Oscar, has another business in which he brings cars which have been imported from Japan through Chile to be legally sold in Bolivia and further east in Paraguay and Brasil. He doesn´t have a drivers license, but still drives his cars across Bolivia on weekeds. He has told me that getting a drivers license is not about ability, but rather about money. You must pay to take the test, and then pay off the test taker so that he will pass you. Driving skill is never part of the equation. Once on the streets, these taxi and combi drivers will view stoplights, streetsigns, and even pedestrians as optional yeilding points. Very frequently, drivers will even speed up to intimidate the pedestrian traffic to move aside, and late at night, taxi drivers will not even slow down before running red lights at major intersections. Oscar has been pulled over numerous times, but he says that a bribe of 75 to 100 bolivianos will usually suffice, at which point the officer will drive away, waiting until he needs more pocket cash to pull someone else over.
Here in Peru, the problem has manifested itself in a different form (for me), perhaps more serious and worrying. Working in a day camp program, I have had the opportunity to interact with almost 100 kids from the surrounding neighborhoods, organizing crafts and outdoor games for them to play. Some recent favorites have been American Football, Dodgeball, and Kickball, mixed with the perennial favorites of soccer and volleyball. The problem lies not in the energy of the kids, but in the way that they play the games. Playing soccer on the streets has taught them that anything goes, that winning is the goal and the rules are flexible. When they come to play here, they bend the rules and will sometimes blatantly not listen to them. Granted, kids will be kids, and playing by the rules is something that is learned, and not innate, but the culture here cultivates the idea of winning at all costs, while most families in the states look to teach their children the value of playing fair.
As I mentioned in an earlier post, I have managed to play soccer on a 8 versus 8 field about twice a week, and my Peruvian family constantly finds it funny when I get pushed off the ball by larger (beer bellied) players because of my size. The keep telling me I need to kick back, be tougher and stronger. The soccer here is different from the states, again, because of the culture. A foul in the states would be recognized by people on both teams, and the game stopped, the situation resolved. Here, only the dirtiest fouls are called, to prevent fights from breaking out, and the elbows that I recieve are shown little attention, other than catcalls from the bystanders.
To make broad statements would be unfair, as I´m sure that there are Peruvians who know the value of good sportsmanship and Gringos who do not, but it seems that the culture values are different. Cheating in the states will usually lose you friends and respect, while here it is shrugged off as a part of the competition. If you ask my Peruvian brother, he would tell you, ¨jugamos sucio. No es como los estados unidos, pero es como se juega aqui¨
Monday, February 2, 2009
Como Trabajo
After more than a week here, I thought it fit to give you all some insight into what the conditions are like here, in addition to what I am doing. Chimbote is a very poor city, its economy centered around the fish cleaning factories which are now only open three or four months out of the year due to overfishing. Because of this, there is never much activity in the city, and people sit and stand on the sidewalks drinking Cusqueña (the local beer), and yelling ¨hola gringo¨as you pass by. The school that I work at, Mi Segundo Hogar, is in vacation right now, but with the help of the program Peru 109, they have opened their doors to all of the kids who would be otherwise in the streets, or at home watching television, to come and do arts and crafts or play in the schoolyard. The school is private, and the parents are paying to send their kids to a school where the small classrooms will seat 20 kids, as opposed to the overfilled public schools, which lack space, adequate supplies, and qualified teachers, and can have up to 50 kids in a classroom. The kids here are well off, which is to say, they have a house and parents and daily food.
I have also gone to a shelter for abandoned women, El Hogar de La Paz, which is extremely different. There, many of the women have mental issues, or are forced to wear straight jackets for fear that they might harm themselves or others. Many of them can´t speak, and the more able ones are learning how to write. More than anything, they crave attention, considering that they spend the whole day sitting inside. There are over 70 women there at this moment, and they have three bedrooms. Each is lined with over 20 cots. Upstairs, the nuns who live there attend to the more needy children, many of whom are unable to eat by themselves or wash themselves. Some lay in their beds, staring at the ceiling while flies land on them. One woman was able to talk, and was content with telling me the same story about her family over and over. It is difficult for me to believe that conditions like this existed before I went there.
I have also gone to a shelter for abandoned women, El Hogar de La Paz, which is extremely different. There, many of the women have mental issues, or are forced to wear straight jackets for fear that they might harm themselves or others. Many of them can´t speak, and the more able ones are learning how to write. More than anything, they crave attention, considering that they spend the whole day sitting inside. There are over 70 women there at this moment, and they have three bedrooms. Each is lined with over 20 cots. Upstairs, the nuns who live there attend to the more needy children, many of whom are unable to eat by themselves or wash themselves. Some lay in their beds, staring at the ceiling while flies land on them. One woman was able to talk, and was content with telling me the same story about her family over and over. It is difficult for me to believe that conditions like this existed before I went there.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Mi Segundo Hogar
So now that I have been here, in Chimbote, Peru, for about five days, I figgured it would be appropriate to let you know what I have been up to. These first few days have been pretty hectic, what with getting settled and beginning my work, but also extremely exciting. I got to Lima on the morning of the 23rd at around 5.30 in the morning, and then spent the morning at the house of one of our family´s friends who lives in Lima. At 12.30, I caught the 7 hour bus to Chimbote, arriving in time to attend the despedida (farewell party) of four volunteers who were returning to the states the next day. The next day, I moved in with my family, who live in a one floor building a few blocks outside of the center. The family consists of the mother, a teacher at a private school, and three sons (Jhon, 30 Wily, 28 and Cokey, 25). The same day, they took me to watch a soccer tournament of a few local town teams, and when I told them that I played soccer, they found me a team. For those of you who do not know, Peruvian soccer is poor, which can be seen from their international standing (or lack thereof), but it is also dirty. Anything goes, and the ref, when there is one, will only call the worst of it. We advanced to the second round before being knocked out of the tournament, literally and physically. The next day, I went to the beach, which is about a half an hour ride from town, where I had my first experience with sandboarding, a sport in which people use snow boards to go down dunes at high speeds. It was fun, but no one told me that it was a bad idea to put sunblock on beforehand, and I ended up, to all of the peruvians´amusement, completely covered in sand. The ocean was equally cool, and while I missed the "BSU! BSU!" chant before entering the water, I was able to teach a few Peruvians the art of bodysurfing. The equatorial sun, however, can do miracles to a gringo like me, and I got a sunburn that is only now beginning to fade. And last, but not least, I had an allergic reaction to something, and now my eyelids are beginning to swell. I hope that all is well back in the states, and I will try to update you all as often as I can.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Feliz Año Nuevo!
Hola, I hope everyone has enjoyed their Christmas and New Years, and are not yet too fed up with my attempts at blogging to stop reading. In the next four months, I will be spending time, first in Chimbote and then in Trujillo, teaching English and volunteering in an orphanage. I don't have all the details, so a later entry will address exactly what I will be up to for the majority of my time during the day.
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